


Boy

by phlants



Series: Techno And His Son :) [1]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: AU, All are personas, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Animal Traits, Baby TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Bad and George are knights, Hybrid Ph1LzA (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Implied Pregnancy, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Light Angst, Minor Technoblade, No Romance, Not real life!, Other, Phil is kinda a dick, Soft Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Ph1LzA - Freeform, Technoblade & Tommyinnit - Freeform, Technoblade is a good dad :), Tommy is kinda a crybaby lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28421526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phlants/pseuds/phlants
Summary: “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He assured the baby, nodding frantically as he said so.
Relationships: GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Techno And His Son :) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084901
Comments: 15
Kudos: 431





	Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I SAW THIS AU WHERE TECHNO IS ACTUALLY TOMMY'S DAD, NOT BROTHER AND IT MADE ME GO BAZOINKERS SO I DECIDED TO WRITE A DRABBLE 'BOUT IT LOL ENJOY ~~~
> 
> Also, please tell me if there's any grammatical errors, or hard-to-read sentences! I hope to become a author one day, and your constructive criticism helps me out a lot!

Techno was seventeen years of age when he met his son.

It was noon, the sun glaring amongst the people of Zrosas. Techno and his father sat in the living area of their home, both sprawled out along the chesterfield. Sun’s rays peeked through the curtains of their windows, bathing the room with warmth and composure. 

Techno plucked at his fiddle’s string, bore painting his eyes. Summer was tough; the crops became mush, and the water dried out quick. It was never an easy season -- for the peasants nor the nobles. 

The serf became tired more easily, causing lack of work and produce, and the aristo complained of the heat and decrease in herbage.

Though Techno didn’t mind the hot weather. It felt nice on his skin, like a sheet of warmth that protected him from the world. The male sighed happily at the thought, eyes half-lidded and body beginning to relax.

The boy dreamt of a meadow of daisies, _white_ daisies. Techno stood in the median, arms outstretched and wind pushing and squeezing past him. He felt so bliss, mouth pulled up into a sweet grin. Techno wishes he could stay there forever, with the pretty flowers and calm breeze. He wants to be alone, his only friends being the song of the winds, and the whispers of the petals. It feels like ether to him, being alone.

Though the boy was invaded from his thoughts and beautiful dreams from a sudden knock at the door. He jumped at the sound, prolonged ears flicking. His father Phil, looked up from his book, eyebrows bouncing up in confusion. Phil pushed himself off the loveseat, grunting as he regained his perfected posture. His father sauntered toward the door, pulling at the knob and unhatching the locks. 

Techno followed behind Phil cautiously, taking his place beside the winged man. The two then creaked open the door, the hinges letting out a low groan.

“Hello?” Phil called out, as two men came quickly into view. They stood a good ten steps away, both covered head-to-toe in metaled armour; a lion imprinted to their chest plates. 

“Knights.” Techno acknowledged quite quickly, his eyes traveling along the shiny and rich metal. Scabbards were attached to each of the mens’ hip-belt, along with a variety of potions and brews. A silver hilt peered out the browned leather of each scabbard, making Techno’s eyes grow wide with joy.

Techno wanted a sword more than anything else in the world. He wanted one of a beautiful crimson, markings and carvings of their ancestor’s vows and quotes littered along the blade’s edges.

Both knights had taken off their helmets, each tucked carefully under an arm. _The King’s Guards,_ Techno concluded, as his eyes met dulled ones. Techno’s cheeks dusted a pink as he was caught staring, quickly averting his eyes from the burning gaze of the knight.

The man had unkempt brunette hair, the pinkette recalls; as well as eyes full of bore and unhappiness. He felt pity for the boy, probably _forced_ to be here. 

The piglin looked towards the other guard, studying his face and features quite quickly. This one was grinning cheerfully, his mousy hair hanging lazily over his eyes. Both boys seemed only a few years older than Techno himself, just beginning to sprout into the wonders of adulthood.

“G’day Mr. Philza! My name is Sir Bad, and this here-” The boy started, cocking his head towards the guard beside him, “-Is Sir George. We’re both members of the king’s elite group of knights!” Sir Bad explained, smiling ever so sweetly. Phil seemed startled at the sudden outburst, as his wings flapped quickly behind him. Techno growled. Knights should know not to be suddenly loud around bird-hybrids, especially when they’re old.

“Is there anything you need?” Phil asked politely, eyes darting between the two men.  
  
“Why yes, kind sir. We’re here to deliver something to their rightful possessor.” The mousy knight said, elbowing at the drooping boy beside him. “George, please get the _child_.” Sir Bad murmured quickly. Techno’s breath hitched.

“Child?” Phil questioned, eyebrows knitted in puzzlement. The mousy guard turned, end of lips perking up. “Yes! It seems as though the child’s father lives in this household.” Sir Bad interpreted, tapping a finger to his chin. 

Philza was shaking, fingers twitching. “But- I haven’t impregnated a woman in years! How could this happen? How do you know it’s mine?” Phil babbled out, wings flapping frantically behind him.

Sir Bad averted his eyes awkwardly, scratching at the back of his head. He laughed quickly, meeting the winged man’s worried gaze. “You see Mr. Philza, this child is not yours.” The knight spoke, turning to the piglin. Techno’s eyes widened. “It’s his.” The mousy guard said blankly, lips a tight line. 

-

Techno couldn’t remember much after that. Phil broke into a fuming and shrieking mess, screaming wildly at the knights for ever accusing his son of such acts, spewing incoherent questions at Techno whilst doing so. _Is it true? Who is the mother? How could you?_

Techno himself couldn’t answer said questions. He couldn’t tell his father; He couldn’t. It didn’t matter anyways. She’s been dead since this morning. Though Techno could care less; She was wicked, and cold. He didn’t like her all that much anyways.

It was sunset when Phil finally calmed down, breath harsh and eyes colder than ice. The winged hybrid sat down at his porch’s steps, face in hands. Techno’s head hung low, tears threatening to be released.

Sir Bad cleared his throat. “Shall we get the child now?” The boy asked softly, biting the pink inside of his cheek. 

“No.” Techno’s father monotonically spoke, leaving no room for reason or complaint.

“But-” Sir Bad started.

“I said _no_ .” Philza barked, wings flapping bitterly as he pulled his way out of his hands and glared at the knight before him. “I don’t want _anything_ to do with that child.” The man snarled, quickly pushing himself up and straightening his stand. 

“But Mr. Philza, you haven’t even seen the child yet-!” Sir Bad reasoned, scurrying frantically after the now leaving hybrid. The piglin stood his ground, averting his eyes towards a wandering leaf.

Now only Sir George and Techno stood, shifting awkwardly between their feet. Both Sir Bad and Techno’s father were long gone, screeching and reasoning with one another along the hills of their land.

Sir George coughed, before slowly clanking his way over to the boy. George placed a hand on the other’s shoulder, causing the pig-hybrid to meet the other’s kind eyes. The knight’s hand was frigid against Techno’s warm skin, the pinkette flinching at the impact, not expecting the sweet gesture.

“Would you like to see him?” The knight asked, completely different than he was a few moments ago. Quiet. Tired. _Annoyed._

Techno let out a quivering breath. He was talking about the child, _his_ child. The pinkette swallowed, before hesitantly and slowly nodding. The tired guard exhaled blissfully, nodding in confirmation.

The pig-hybrid fiddled with his fingers as the silent knight made his way over to a waggon, Techno somehow not noticing the waggon until now.

The carriage was simple; made of dark wood with the same lion marking both guards’ had worn on their chest plates, carved carefully into the sides of said waggon. 

It was only a few moments before the knight was wobbling back towards the piglin, a quilt now bundled into his hands. Sir George stopped, holding out the bunch of throw and sheets to the pinkette. 

Techno became scared, hands becoming wet and throat parched. Sir George gave him a reassuring smile, gesturing his arms further towards the nervous boy.

“Go on, say hello.” The guard urged happily, the kind smile never fading from his tired and pale face.

-

The infant squirmed and writhed in Techno’s arms, letting out high squeeks of distress, and wails of uncertainty. The boy’s eyes softened as the baby boy howled out, sapphire eyes clouded with salty tears. The piglin swallowed thickly, as he took in the child’s beautiful features. The boy had small, almost unnoticeable tusks, and a mess of blonde and sweet-smelling hair. He was beautiful, and he was Techno’s.

“He’s mine.” The piglin concluded, hugging the infant to his chest. The baby fisted at the hybrid’s carmine tunic, his tiny knuckles turning a pale yellow from the amount of force. Techno wiped at the newborn’s saline and pretty tears, playing with the boy’s many locks of gold. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He assured the baby, nodding frantically as he said so. The infant cooed and squealed in his arms.

The hybrid smiled, caressing the baby’s cheeks with such delicacy and gentleness, as if he touched him too harsh he’d break like porcelain; shattering into the green grass below. 

“What’re you going to name him?” Sir George asked finally, eyes just as soft as the pig-hybrid’s own. Techno looked up at the knight, pursed his lips, then glanced back down at the infant.

“Thomas.”


End file.
